Monday, July 31, 2017

I've had a messy week. Depression, not enough working or working out, too much binging and terrible purging. Sometimes purging leaves me feeling accomplished and relieved and sometimes it leaves me wanting to slice my wrists and cry. This week was mostly the latter. It's not worth doing anymore.

The world of skinny. It's a messy, terrible place, but it's where I want to live. I'm tired of the world of fat. Sitting at dinner tonight was weird. I order my little tiny salad and have my two vodkas while everyone else eats more calories than me just during the bread course. I rip my food into smaller and smaller pieces and take breaks where I put my fork down. They jokingly talk about eating their feelings this week and say, "2,300 calories? How many days worth of food is that?" Someone says "one to two" while I think "four during a good week."

That's what I desperately need right now. A good week. I need to stay in control for a solid week and see where I am. I've been fortunate enough that the scale has been nice to me. I only gained about 2 pounds after I lost a bunch, which means I've kept those 10 pounds off successfully. Now I just need to do that with another ten. And maybe another.

Monday, July 24, 2017

There's too much going on lately. It's overwhelming... I'm a mess, and there's no end in sight. I want life to settle down for goddsake. I want some peace.

I haven't had a period since coming off my birth control. I ovulated and then had a few days where I felt like I was on it, but no blood. I'm scared, but I always remember how crazy and unpredictable they were before I started birth control, so who knows... I should get a test probably. I just don't even want to know if I am pregnant at the moment. The boy and I are struggling. Our sex life has taken a dip since coming
off birth control. We had planned 3 months before actually trying to get
pregnant, and back up methods are fucking shitty. He doesn't understand
how my hormones make me feel or how I'm actually really fucking scared
to get pregnant. I'm so worried about him coming inside me right
now that I can barely enjoy sex. It's all just a huge mind fuck, but he
doesn't seem to get it. He just complains and grumbles and acts like a
dick. I got pissed today and told him he has no empathy and it's disgusting. We haven't talked about all of it yet, but I'm not looking forward to it.

I haven't weighed myself in days. Maybe a week or longer... I've lost track. I binged and purged today. It was the easiest purge I've probably ever had. I didn't even have to touch myself, and I was puking. I was so upset and frustrated and annoyed, the food just came up on its own. My body didn't fight me at all. I dont have any idea if I've gained or lost or what the number could even be, and I don't want to. Some days I do well, and some days I don't. Some days I barely eat, and some days I binge endlessly. My clothes don't feel any differently, but the wedding is looming in the not so far distance reminding me that I need to get myself in shape.

My mind is so fucked lately. I want drugs. To get drunk. To run away. To be some else. Somewhere else. I want to enjoy myself for a day, but at this rate I can't...

My whole life is about to change. I got offered an amazing job using my shiny new degree. I'm excited for it... But all the other things I have to do to get myself in a good position are difficult. I'm moving home with my parents for a few months, leaving the place that I've worked at for 3 years and my only real friend. I'm leaving the town I've lived in for 7 years... The longest I've ever lived anywhere.

I'm scared I'll be miserable. I'm scared I'm choosing the wrong path. A few months ago I thought I was headed in a different direction, and now here I am... Moving into my brother's childhood room and second-guessing myself. I've worked so hard to become an adult, and I feel like they won't understand. I don't want anyone else to run my life in any way.

I don't know what to do. I'm tired. So tired that I wish I could go to sleep and never wake up.